What I See When I Look At You
by clair beaubien
Summary: WIP. Thoughts on how S9 might, but won't, end. Ch 1: Crowley knows where Dean is, but isn't telling Sam. Big Mistake. Rated for the methods Sam uses to make Crowley talk. Up now: Ch 5: Sam is out of options
1. Chapter 1

_Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, Blood and revenge are hammering in my head_…Shakespeare - Titus Andronicus

* * *

Dean was missing. They'd found Abaddon and Crowley had given Dean the Blade, but then with a snap of his fingers, he'd sent Dean off alone and now Dean was missing.

So now Sam had Crowley tied to a chair.

"Well, well, seems we've been here before. Haven't we, Moose?"

They were at the same church where Sam had tried to 'cure' Crowley the year before, and despite being chained, locked, warded, sigiled and trapped into his chair a dozen different ways, Crowley still managed to be smug and condescending.

Sam didn't care. He circled Crowley slowly, looking at him as though he were trying to understand a new specimen of bug. In his hand, he carried the demon blade.

"_Have_ we been here before?" Sam asked him. "Sure, we've been 'here', before…" He gestured around the decaying church with the blade. "But have we been _here_ before_…?"_ He bent low to be closer to Crowley's face and waved the blade back in forth between them. "Have we?"

"And where is it you think we are?"

Sam smiled, a thin, ugly smile, and pushed the knife under Crowley's chin, hard enough to drive a drop of blood down the blade.

"At the end of our options."

"Oooohhh…" Crowley breathed out. "Acting all tough are we, Moose? Sure, you might be the brains of the outfit, but Dean – " At Dean's name, Sam pushed on the blade and turned it, slowly. The action forced Crowley's head back but he didn't lose the smugness. "Everybody knows that Dean is the balls…"

Sam leaned closer to Crowley, putting more force on the blade. "I want to know where my brother is. If you won't tell me, I don't need you."

"You think you can kill me?"

Sam's lip pulled back in a sneer. "I can make you _wish_ I'd kill you."

Crowley scoffed.

"You think that little blade will have an effect on me? On _me?_"

Sam's sneer broadened. "I think I have a whole bunker full of ways to make your existence miserable. You think five months stuck alone in our dungeon was boring? Try eternity. In here. In the dark."

Crowley cocked an eyebrow.

"That was good, Moose. Been practicing, have we? I almost, _almost,_ felt a _frisson_ of apprehension there."

Sam stood back. He reached into his duffel bag and brought out a roll of duct tape.

"See this?" He shoved it into Crowley's face. The tape had traps and sigils printed on it. "It'll be the _last_ thing you see. Ever. I'll put this over your eyes and I'll put this over your ears and I'll put this over your mouth. Then I'll use Magnus's spell to make this place invisible. You'll sit here alone in the dark and _rot_. And every once in a while, I'll be back to try out some new piece of torture on you. A holy water drip over your head for starters. Low level exorcisms on continuous loop, not enough to expel you, just enough to make you want to peel your own skin off. Then every other bit of torture I find at the bunker, I will come back and inflict on you. Over and over and over again, for the rest of eternity. Unless you tell me where my brother is."

Crowley tilted his head, staring at Sam without blinking for a long moment.

"You know what I see when I look at you, Moose? I see a scared little boy who can't cross the street unless he's got Big Brother's hand to hold onto. You forget I saw you that moment Dean went to Purgatory? You forget I saw the look on your face? Big & Bad Sam Winchester, reduced to a blubbing five year old, because he didn't know where his brother was. And where's Dean now? Can't find him? Poor Sammy. Guess you'll just have to go create another dream-life for yourself, won't you?"

Sam drew back and kicked Crowley square in the chest, knocking him backwards onto the floor. He knelt hard on Crowley's elbow and pushed the long edge of the demon blade under his nose.

"You know what _I_ see when I look at _you_?" Sam asked. His voice was harsh. "I see you tricking my brother into accepting the First Blade and the Mark of Cain. I see you mocking his suffering from their effects and using him for your own ends." He scraped the knife against Crowley's skin. "I see Sarah Blake choking to death on her motel floor because you wanted something you weren't getting. What I _don't_ see is you telling me where my brother is. _Big mistake_. Because when Dean went to Purgatory, I wasn't _pissed._"

He yanked Crowley upright then pulled an arm's length of tape off the roll. He ripped it with his teeth and wrapped it around Crowley's eyes, not being too careful with the knife in his hands.

"C'mon, Moose. We can talk about this." Crowley's voice had taken on an audible tremor.

"We can talk," Sam agreed. "I can tell you how the first time we caught up with Abbadon, we put a bullet into her brain that had a devil's trap carved into it so that she couldn't smoke out. I can tell you how I plan to put a bullet like that into your brain and your lungs and your spleen and your nuts and your kneecaps."

Crowley swallowed and fidgeted in the chair.

"You want to know where Dean is? Fine, I'll tell you where Dean is," he babbled. "I just wanted him to have long enough to kill Abbadon."

"Yeah? Without me? Good plan." Sam pulled another length of tape off. _"I don't hear you telling,"_ he growled.

"Nebraska! He's in Nebraska!"

"_Where_ in Nebraska?"

"Gothenburg. There's an abandoned Quonset hut near the airfield. He's in there."

Sam hmpf'd and yanked the tape around Crowley's mouth.

"_**Cas**_…" he called and Cas appeared instantly. "He says Dean's in an abandoned building near the airfield in Gothenburg, Nebraska. You get Dean and bring him back here."

"What are you going to do?" Cas asked.

Sam grabbed Crowley's hair and pulled his head back and shoved the demon knife against his throat.

"I'm going to plan all the things I'll do if Dean isn't there…"

Cas nodded and winged off. He was back a heartbeat later.

"Sam – you need to go to Dean. _Now_."

Sam let go of Crowley and pushed the demon blade into Cas's hand.

"Watch him."

Then with a touch, Cas sent Sam to Dean.

_To be continued_

A/N: yes, I've been whining that schoolwork is keeping me from writing, but this story is stomping all around on my brain and I couldn't get started on my homework until I at least wrote the first chapter. I'll update soon. (Sooner than my usual 'soon'.)


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was instantly sent into a dark space that smelled of dust, grease, sulfur and sweat. Dean was crouched in the corner, surrounded by the bloody and dismembered bodies of half a dozen demons or more. His head was down and he held the First Blade in his right hand.

"Dean?" Sam said. "Can you hear me?"

Dean stood slowly, lifting his head and fixing a hard stare on Sam. His knuckles whitened around the handle of the Blade.

"You come here to die?" He asked. His voice was flat and low.

"I came here to get you." Sam said and Dean gestured at him with the Blade.

"_Then you came here to die."_

He circled around the demon body parts and Sam circled too, keeping safely away from him.

"What happened to Abbadon?" Sam asked.

"The bitch lit out while I was fileting her entourage. But don't worry – I'll get her."

"You're right." Sam said. "We'll get her. We will. We'll get her together."

"_No."_ Dean said, shaking his head. "Not you. I don't need _you._ I'll take care of this by myself."

Sam glanced at the bloody mess he was skirting at his feet as they continued to circle each other.

"We'll do it together," he said again.

"Ha. No. Y'see, that's the beauty of being 'business partners,'" Dean mocked. "I don't have to take you with me if I don't want to. And – _I don't want to._"

As Sam circled, he began to back away from the bodies and into the empty middle of the building.

"How're you going to find Abaddon?"

"Crowley'll tell me where she went."

Sam tilted his head. "Uh – yeah. That's not going to happen."

Dean's eyes blazed at Sam. He stopped circling.

"What're you talking about?"

"I put Crowley on lock-down to make him tell me where you were. He's not talking to anybody anymore."

In a few fast steps, Dean had Sam shoved against a wall with the Blade pressed along his neck.

"Did you kill him?" He demanded.

"Not yet." Sam said. He kept his hands held out from his sides. When he swallowed, the Blade dipped. "But there's not much making me want to keep him alive right now."

Dean pressed harder on the Blade.

"You kill him, I kill you."

Sam shrugged.

"He stops pissing me off, I won't kill him."

Dean snorted in disdain. He let go of Sam and backed off a step but then pushed forward again, pinning Sam against the wall with his hand driving into his shoulder, waving the Blade in his face.

"Maybe I'll kill you anyway."

Sam showed no reaction. He only shook his head.

"You won't."

"No?" Dean asked, like he was surprised. "What's stopping me?"

Sam didn't answer and Dean grabbed him and pulled him up and slammed him against the wall and shoved the Blade at his eye.

"_I said – what's stopping me?"_ He shouted.

"All the chances, all the reasons you ever had to kill me in the past ten years," Sam said, not losing his calm. "And you never did. Why would you start now?"

Dean sneered and twisted his right arm to show the Mark to Sam.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Sam didn't say anything for a few beats.

"Because that's not you."

"Pffft," Dean all but spat. He shoved on Sam to push himself away. "You got no idea what I am," he said. And before Sam could answer that, Dean pointed to himself with the Blade. "I'm a killer."

"No. You're a hunter."

"And what the hell's the difference?"

"A hunter hunts to save other people. _You_ hunt to save other people. A killer kills to make himself more powerful than anybody else – and that has never been you."

For a moment, Dean seemed to be considering it.

"And how would you know?"

"Because – I've been a killer."

Dean's face fell, just for a second, and then he shook his head and his snarl was back in place.

"Well, _boo hoo,_" he said. He waved the Blade between them again. "Take me to Crowley."

"Hand me the Blade and I will."

"Ha – no. That's not how this works."

"That's exactly how this works, and you know it." Sam said. "Give me the Blade. We'll get Crowley to tell us where Abaddon is, and then we'll kill her. _We_ will."

Dean stepped into Sam's space again and leaned close into his face.

"_I don't need you."_

Sam kept his eyes on Dean's eyes and leaned in closer as well.

"_You need me to tell you where Crowley is."_

Dean pressed the Blade against the side of Sam's face, at the corner of his eye and stared at him like he was studying him. Sam didn't pull away.

"You got him at the Bunker or someplace familiar," Dean growled. "You forget how well I know you? I can see the shirt you're wearing and know what socks you put on. I can see what you're having for breakfast and know what you'll have for lunch. I know you. It won't be hard to find where you put Crowley, so I might as well kill you."

Sam lifted his chin, exposing his neck.

"So kill me."

Dean's snarl curled into an ugly smile. He pulled his arm back and drove the Blade at Sam. At the final second, Sam grabbed his arm and slammed it down over his knee repeatedly, but Dean didn't let go of the Blade. He threw a punch at Sam and Sam smashed his elbow into Dean's nose and they fought for possession of the Blade until Sam got an arm in a chokehold around Dean's neck and Dean kept fighting until his eyes rolled back and he went limp.

"I'm sorry," Sam said, breathless. He lowered Dean to the floor. "I'm sorry…" He pulled the Blade from Dean's hand then crouched beside him. "Cas! Bring my duffel bag!"

In a second, Cas stood beside Sam and dropped the duffel on the floor next to him. Sam reached in and searched around and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.

"Are those necessary?" Cas asked. "Dean is unconscious, isn't he?"

"I choked him, I didn't inflict brain damage." Sam said. "He's going to come around fast. Fast and pissed." He put the cuffs on Dean and breathed out a sigh. "All right, we need to get back to the Bunker. Cas? Can you put us in an empty bedroom in the Bunker? Then bring Crowley to the dungeon?"

"Of course."

"Thanks…then maybe I can figure out how to get Dean through this…"

To be continued…


	3. Chapter 3

Sam and Dean dropped into an empty bedroom and Sam eased Dean onto the bed just as he started coming around. He stood back as Dean tugged at his hands cuffed behind his back and levered himself up to sitting on the mattress. He glared at Sam.

"You're making a big mistake."

"I guess I've made bigger." Sam answered. He looked at the Blade still in his hand. "I'm going to put this somewhere safe until, hopefully, the effects of it wear off of you."

"I'll find it." Dean said. "I know where you'll hide it. I'll find it and I'll use it and if you get in my way, I'll use it on you."

"Yeah, I'd be disappointed if you didn't try…" Sam said. He sighed. "I'm gonna get some supplies for you. Water, food, clean bedding. Then I'm going to put a lock on the door. Until then, you're in the cuffs."

"Don't do me any favors. Better yet – don't _think _you're doing me any favors. You're just getting in my way."

Sam shook his head and pushed his hand through his hair.

"_Cas…_" he called and Cas winged in next to him. "Keep Dean here until I come back, all right? I'm going to go…" he looked from Dean to the Blade and back again. "…._hide_ this, and get a lock for the door out of the work room, and some food. I'll just be a few minutes."

"I can get those things for you." Cas said.

"No, I'll do it. Just keep him in here."

Sam left the room and pulled the door shut. He headed for the kitchen, considering the First Blade in his hand. Cas was in the kitchen when he got there.

"Cas! What the hell – where's Dean?"

"I've secured the door – he can't get out. I've come to offer you assistance."

"And Crowley's in the dungeon?" Sam asked and Cas nodded. "Oh. Okay. Great. Thanks. I just need to get some food and water for Dean, and clean sheets and pillows cases for his bed, and a lock for the door."

"I can keep the door secure for you."

"I know, Cas, and I appreciate it. But I'm not gonna ask your permission every time I want to see my brother; I'll put a human lock on it."

"I understand." Cas said. "So, how may I assist you?"

"Grab some bottles of water off of that shelf and some energy bars? I'll get the bedding and the lock and – " he looked at the Blade again. "And take care of this."

"Where will you put it?" Cas asked. Sam shrugged.

"Dean knows everywhere I would put it, so I have to put it where I wouldn't put it."

They met at the door to the room. Cas carried seven bottles of water and eight energy bars. Sam carried two folded sheets, two pillow cases, a hasp lock, a padlock, a hand drill and a screw driver. But no Blade. Cas pointedly looked at what Sam didn't carry but said nothing.

"All right," Sam said, and nodded at the door. "Let's get this done."

Cas opened the door and they found Dean standing on the chair from the desk closely examining the ceiling tiles. His cuffed hands were now in front of himself. He jumped down from the chair and marched up to Sam.

"There's still time to not be stupid about this," he said. It sounded like a command.

"No, we passed 'stupid' a long time ago," Sam told him. He tossed the sheets past Dean onto the bed and nodded to Cas to set the water and food on the desk.

"You think that lock is going to hold me? I'll batter that door down."

"I think it'll slow you down." Sam said. He tossed the key to the cuffs onto the bed next to the clean sheets. "And if you want to destroy your home, be my guest. C'mon, Cas."

They left the room and shut the door and Sam started to attach the lock to the door and doorframe, using the hand drill and screwdriver.

"Keep him inside until I get this done," he asked Cas as the doorknob rattled.

"So – where'd you hide the Blade?" Dean asked through the door. "Don't tell me – somewhere I'll never find it, right? But it's somewhere in the Bunker. You wouldn't trust it where you couldn't check on it every five minutes. And you being Mr. Fastidious, I bet you're dying to soak it in a bucket of bleach to clean all that blood off of it, but then you're telling yourself, there's Abel's blood on there, and who knows who else's blood. That's historic and Mr. Mensa can't just flush history."

As Dean talked, his voice changed in volume as though he was walking closer and further away from the door. The chair legs squeaked against the floor and then the bed did.

Sam didn't say anything; he kept working on attaching the lock. The muscle in his jaw grew tighter.

"Then of course," Dean went on as it sounded like he was moving all the furniture in the room. "You're mapping out all the ways out of the Bunker from this room, figuring out which way I'd take. You wouldn't hide the Blade along those routes in case I could sense it was there and grab it on my way out. But then you're taking into account the fact that I might take my time getting out and search for the Blade, so you can't hide it in just any out of the way place either."

"Did you always like to hear yourself talk this much?" Sam asked, easily, conversationally, sounding as though he really wanted to know. The hasp was secured to the door frame and he snapped the padlock on.

"I'm trying to do something right here, Sam. I'm trying to kill the last Knight of Hell, and I will kill her and you think you're going to stop me? Face it, you can't win. You never could win against me, you never _did_ win against me. And that was before I had this Mark, the Blade, this power. This absolute power. So why don't you just make this easy on everybody and tell me where the Blade is?"

"I hid it someplace you'll never want to touch it again." Sam said.

"Oh, yeah? Where's that?"

"_In Crowley's ass…" _In the abrupt silence that followed that remark, Sam added, "Let me know if 'absolute power' wants a magazine or something…."

Then he marched off, and Cas followed with a perplexed look on his face.

##


	4. Chapter 4

Sam and Cas were barely to the end of the hallway when the sound of pounding came from the door to Dean's room.

"I would feel more confident in our ability to keep Dean secure if you'd allow me to reinforce the door." Cas said. Sam stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess you better." He sounded disappointed. "Reinforce the whole room, while you're at it. Just let me be able to open the lock whenever I want to…or need to…"

"Of course."

Sam walked out to the library. He stopped and looked around, and then he kept walking, up the stairs and out of the bunker, out to the Impala parked in front. He sat back against the trunk and sighed.

Cas followed and in a moment stood near him.

Sam glanced at Cas and then down at his boots. He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed again.

"All right. The Mark of Cain. How do I get it off of Dean? Can I burn it off or cut it off?"

"I don't believe that will have any effect."

"What about – what about – " Sam gestured in a rolling motion as though he was uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "What about cutting his arm off?"

"You would do that?"

"If I had to. If it would help. Will it help?"

Cas shook his head.

"The Mark, I believe, is merely the outward manifestation of Dean's internal struggle. Of his acceptance of the responsibility it represents. Removing the Mark, removing his arm, I doubt would have any effect."

"But you're not sure. It might work, it might help." Sam said. "You could heal his arm if I take it off."

"You would do that?" Cas asked again. He sounded aghast.

"_I would do it to help Dean."_ Sam growled. "I'd cut off my own arm if I thought it would help."

"Yes, I know you would, Sam. Dean knows it, too."

Sam shook his head.

"It doesn't matter if he knows. It doesn't matter what he thinks. I'm going to save him, whatever I have to do."

Cas put his hands into his trench coat pockets and moved slowly to sit beside Sam on the trunk of the Impala.

"Dean had very much the same attitude the several times he had to put you in Bobby's panic room."

Sam didn't say anything.

"At least the times that I was witness to," Cas finished.

"What I wouldn't give for Bobby's panic room right about now." Sam said. "And Bobby, or Dad. I mean – I appreciate you sticking through this with me, with Dean, but Dad and Bobby could get Dean to listen whether he wanted to or not. If they were here…"

Sam broke off and sighed.

"What about Cain? You think if we got him here we could make him take back the Mark?"

"From what I've been able to find out, Cain would have to willingly accept the Mark, and Dean would have to willingly give it. That is - if we were able to find Cain's whereabouts at all.

"I think Crowley might know." Sam said. He stood up and marched back into the Bunker and down into the dungeon. Cas followed. Crowley was right where Cas had left him – bound into the chair, shackled, still wearing the warded duct tape over his eyes and mouth.

Sam pulled the demon knife from his inside jacket pocket and held it pointed near Crowley's chin. With his other hand he grabbed the edge of the tape around Crowley's mouth.

"Yes or no," Sam asked. "Can you find Cain?"

He roughly ripped the tape off and when Crowley's first words were, "So, Moose…" he shoved the tape back in place and backhanded Crowley.

"_Wrong answer,"_ he said, leaning close to Crowley as he said it. "Let's try it again: yes or no, do you know how to find Cain?"

He ripped the tape off again and Crowley smirked, "You didn't say 'please'."

Sam ripped the tape all the way off of Crowley's mouth.

"You know what I just realized?" He asked.

"No, Moose. What did you just realize?" Crowley snarked and Sam grabbed his chin and forced his mouth open, pressing the flat of demon knife down onto his lower teeth.

"_That you don't need a tongue to give me a yes or no answer."_

He shoved Crowley's jaw open farther and pulled his other hand back to adjust the knife in his grip while Crowley gabbled out an inarticulate but panicked plea. Cas grabbed Sam's arm and pulled him back from Crowley.

"_Sam!_ Killing him won't help Dean."

"Better listen to him, Moose." Crowley said. He sounded breathless. "You kill me and there's goes all the help I might b persuaded to give you."

Sam pulled out of Cas's hands.

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm going to leave pieces of you scattered all over this Bunker."

"Tut, tut, Moose. You're out of your depth and you know it. Dean's the torturer. _You_ are an angry child having a tantrum."

Sam grabbed Crowley's hair and pulled his head back and pressed the edge of the knife hard against his throat.

"I'm an angry child with a _knife_ and no Big Brother to pull me back. And I spent one hundred eighty years in the Cage, Crowley. You think I don't know torture?" He scraped the knife up Crowley's throat, over his chin and across his cheek. "I learned torture you only _wish_ you knew. And if you don't help me help Dean, hearing you scream is going to be the sound I fall asleep to for the rest of my life."

He let go of Crowley and ripped the tape off from around his eyes. He pushed the knife at Crowley's eye.

"So – are you going to tell me whether or not you know how to find Cain, or do I get to start working off two centuries of rage and helplessness?"

Crowley swallowed and kept his eyes on fixed on Sam.

"Yes, I know how to find –"

That was as far as he got and Sam released him roughly and turned away. He slapped the knife against Cas's chest.

"Get him whatever he needs, Cas. Come get me when everything is ready."

"Where will you be?" Cas asked.

"I'm going to talk to Dean."

##

##


	5. Chapter 5

The pounding had stopped when Sam got to the room; instead of battering his way out, Dean was on his knees, attempting to pry the ventilation screen off of the bottom of the door.

As Sam approached, Dean stood up and away from the door.

"You're making a mistake, Sam."

"So you keep saying," Sam answered. He leaned back against the wall next to the door and closed his eyes for a moment. "Do you need anything?"

"I need you to let me out and do my job."

"And since that's not going to happen, is there anything _else_ you need?"

"Sure, I'm going to have to pee sooner or later."

"There's a metal wastebasket in there," Sam told him. "Have at it."

"Seriously?" Dean asked, after a moment's pause. "You expect me to pee in wastebasket?"

"All I ever had in the panic room was a metal bucket."

Dean chuckled. It was a dark sound.

"That's what this is about, isn't it? I just realized. This is payback for me putting you in the panic room."

"Yeah, you're right," Sam said. He bent his head down and massaged the back of his neck. "I'm paying you back for all those times you saved my life by putting me into the panic room. That's it exactly." He sighed. " I'm doing this to save you, Dean. I'm doing it _for_ you, not _to _you. I wish you could see that."

"All I can see is that now I have the power and you can't deal with it."

"What I can't handle is watching you suffer and not being able to help you."

"I'm not suffering. This is the steadiest, the most in control I have _ever _been. And I think you're jealous of that. I think you want that feeling back like you had when you didn't have a soul. Don't forget, _Sammy, _you're a killer, too. You keep it back, you keep it controlled, but even you have to admit, there's a killer inside of you that I couldn't touch, not on my best or worst day."

"I know," Sam said. "And you still never gave up on me." He pushed himself off the wall. "I'm not giving up either."

He walked toward the dungeon, opening doors of their storage rooms and examining their contents as he passed them. Finally, he chose the first storage room in the hallway. He propped the door open and started hauling the contents out of the room, stacking the boxes and files and artifacts into the hallway.

"Sam, what are you doing?" Cas asked, coming up the hallway from the dungeon.

"Making a panic room," Sam told him. He stopped his work and dragged a sleeve across the sweat on his forehead. "What happened with Crowley? Can he find Cain?"

"He knows a summoning spell that should work. I've gathered all the necessary materials; it's prepared whenever you'd like to proceed."

"All right." Sam brushed his hands off and studied the half-empty storage room for a moment.

"Do you think a panic room will be necessary?" Cas asked.

"I think if I can't get Cain to take the Mark back that it's my only option. Dean's not a killer and I'm not going to leave him trapped in that rage, not without trying everything I can think of to save him from it. He's never - " Sam broke off suddenly. He swallowed hard before continuing. "No matter how hard I ever fought him, no matter how many angels and demons or even Bobby told him it was pointless, Dean never, _never_, walked away and left me to suffer, even when it was my own arrogance that was causing it. I'll do whatever I have to; I'll do whatever it takes."

*SPN*

A half hour later, Sam and Cas stood outside the Bunker's garage door, with a large copper bowl just outside the devil's trap painted on the asphalt at their feet.

Sam lit a match, "Here goes," and dropped it into the bowl. The resulting flash and smoke cleared away to reveal a man standing in the middle of the trap. He was tall, lean, with graying hair and beard.

Cain.

"Who the hell are you?" He demanded of Sam.

"You gave my brother the Mark. I want you to take it back."

Cain's eyes widened in surprise.

"You're the brother Dean didn't kill. Well, well, what makes you so special?"

"Answer the question," Sam told him. "Will you take the Mark back from Dean?"

"Why should I? I told him there were consequences of accepting the Mark. He didn't want to hear them."

Sam regarded Cain for a few moments with a sour look on his face.

"Then we're done here," he said and turned to go back into the Bunker. Cas turned to follow him.

"You didn't tell me what makes you so special. Why Dean never killed you."

That made Sam stop. He walked back to Cain.

"You want to know what's special about me? _My brother_. He saved my life over and over again. He saved my life when he didn't have to, when he shouldn't have, when he shouldn't have been able to save my life. My brother has gone toe to toe with Death, with monsters, angels, demons, and Lucifer himself to save me. That's what special about me."

Sam turned to go in.

"You're just going to leave me here?"

"You won't help my brother, you don't exist. That devil's trap might start to wear off in the heat next summer. C'mon, Cas."

They walked back into the Bunker and to the storage room.

"Cas, you think you could zap a mattress in here? Maybe a desk and a chair? I'll go get Dean."

Sam headed for the bedroom hallway, walking stiff and slow, as though reluctant to be doing this.

"Dean?" He asked when he got to the room.

"_What_?"

"I want to let you out of there and show you something down the hallway. Will you please just come with me?"

There was a pause and then, "Yes."

"Thank you."

Sam unlocked the door and Dean pulled it open from inside.

"All right, what? What are going to show me?"

"This way."

Sam led the way back to the storage room. Cas had furnished it similar to the bedrooms.

"A panic room?" Dean asked. "In this place, you made a panic room?"

"Crowley's in the dungeon," Sam explained. He sounded weary. "I didn't think bunking up together was a good idea. I wish I we had a room with an attached bathroom, but the bathroom is right next door to this room. I think we could build a doorway to it through the room."

Sam paused, and sighed, and turned to Dean.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, Dean. You've spent your life taking care of me, saving me, and I wish I could find a way to save you that didn't involve this. But - I'm out of other options."

"Seriously?" Dean demanded. "You seriously think that I'm going to willingly lock myself into a panic room?"

"No," Sam said. "I think I am." He pushed his right shirt sleeve up. "Give me the Mark."

To Be Continued

A/N: I'm not happy with this, it's rushed, but I wanted it done & posted before the finale tonight, so if there are any similarities, I can say 'I thought of it first!' I doubt there will be any similarities, but just in case.


End file.
